


Illya and the Easter Bonnet

by spikesgirl58



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 00:25:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6448060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written (belatedly) for the 2016 MFUWSS Easter Egg Challenge. </p><p>Threecee asked:   I'd like a gen story that fits the title "Illya and the Easter Bonnet". Maybe based on the movie since there aren't many requests for that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illya and the Easter Bonnet

 

“Some vacation this turned out to be,” Napoleon grumbled as he watched the rain pelt down. It had been raining for most of the week.  “So much for jolly old England.”

“It wasn’t exactly a vacation, Napoleon. We were here to observe and collect information.”  Illya glanced up from his bed where he’d spent much of the afternoon reading some magazines.  His feet dangled over the end.  Twin beds were simply not long enough for him.

“I know, a working vacation then, but a week in London. I thought it would be more than just you and me stuffed into a tiny hotel room for most of the time.   I thought there would be some theatre, maybe a pub or two.”

“The local office is nervous with us around. They are worried that you would present too tempting a target.”

“I’m an UNCLE agent. I can take care of myself.”

“So rumor has it.” Illya closed the magazine and sat up.  “What’s really troubling you?”

Napoleon looked away from the window. “What?  I just told you.”

“You gave a lame excuse that not even a junior KGB agent would buy. There’s something more.”

It was a full minute before Napoleon spoke again. Now his attention was unfocused, watching an invisible image in a happier time.  “Easter in New York.  Going with my aunt to see the Easter show at Radio City, the Easter Parade… Have you ever been to the Easter Parade?”

“That spectacle with all the hats? No, I can’t say that I have.  I’m usually working so other agents so inclined have to opportunity to celebrate the day.”

“And we thank you for that. Those Easter bonnets are really something else, Illya.  And all the women dressed in their finery.  It harkens back to simpler times.”

“You mean like dying from TB and the plague, Cowboy?” Illya dodged the pillow that Napoleon snatched from a settee to toss at him.

“You’re really something else, Peril.”

Illya laughed and got to his feet. “Well, are you coming or not?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You said you wanted to go to the pub.”

“In this rain?”

“If you want to go out, then, yes, in this rain.” Illya grabbed his raincoat and the umbrella.  “You won’t melt, unless all those rumors about you are true.”

“No, thanks. The last thing I need is a cold on top of everything else.”  He sighed and returned to his vigil out the window.  “Bring me back something?”

“All right, but you owe me, Cowboy.”

 

Napoleon woke up the next morning and immediately felt cheered as sunlight poured through the limp curtains. It was a 180 from the day before.  He could see dust motes dancing in the beams and it cheered him.

“Hey, Illya, we have a sunny day and just in time for Easter.” When there was no response, Napoleon reached over to kick the mattress of Illya’s nearby bed.  That’s when he realized it was empty.  The sheets were rumpled, so there had been someone in it and he remembered Illya coming back last night, a little tipsy and soaked to the bone. 

Napoleon’s fish and chips were a little soggy, but he ate them, while Illya watched, almost dog-like, at his every bite. Napoleon gave up about halfway through, pushed the greasy newspaper and its contents towards him.  Illya polished them off and tumbled happily into a bed that barely contained him.

So where was he now?

Out of habit, Napoleon slipped a hand beneath Illya’s pillow, comforted to find the P-38 gone.   Wherever Illya was, he was armed and that made for a very dangerous agent, indeed. 

Quickly Napoleon dressed and dashed out of the room, even without shaving or combing his hair. His partner was missing and that put everything else to a lower importance. 

He exited the little hotel and slammed into a wall of people all crowded around a car. At first, Napoleon’s heart leapt into his throat, fearing there had been an accident.  Then he realized it was the vehicle they had checked out of UNCLE-London’s motor pool two night earlier.

He pushed his way to the front of the crowd and stopped. The hood of the car had become a repository of bright pink, yellow, and green cellophane grass nests.  Each nest contained a collection of colorful eggs, candy and a stuffed toy.   And it was still being laden with even more decoration in the form of baskets.  Illya was bent over, carefully placing a cheerfully colored stuffed rabbit in one of them.

“What is this?” Napoleon asked, grimacing at the sheer thought of having to remove all the decorations.

“Oh, hello, Napoleon. Happy Easter.”  Illya straightened and stepped aside, grinning at his partner. Napoleon was struck at how young Illya appeared in that moment.  “This is for you, Cowboy.”

“But what is it, Peril?”

Illya looked happily at the crowd. “Well, last night you were complaining about missing the annual spectacle of the Easter parade, so I though this might be the next best thing.”

“And that would be?” he asked a third time with hope in his voice.

“Don’t you see, Napoleon?”

“I see probably half your salary spent on Easter stuff sitting on the hood of our car.”

“Not hood, Napoleon. The Brits have a different word for it.”

At that moment, Napoleon started to laugh. “You have got to be kidding.”

“Nope.” Illya waved back at the car.  “Now you have your very own Easter bonnet.”


End file.
